My Turn

The grief support group I attend, GriefShare, has started up again for another 13-week run. This is the fifth time since my son Jordan’s death two years ago that I will have participated in the program. Walking into our meeting room last Thursday evening was like going home... I was blanketed in feelings of warmth and acceptance. There were some familiar faces that I share a deep connection with and there were some new faces – people reaching out in hopes of finding understanding and guidance in navigating the grief journey.

There was a new woman in the group that I felt so drawn to... I could see the pain outlined on her face. Her grief was visible and somehow, I knew we shared something neither of us wanted. When it was her turn to introduce herself and state her reason for attending, all she could get out was her name before her voice broke and she started crying. Later in the session, in response to something I had said, she stated her daughter had died in February of 2017. My son died in February of 2016. It was no wonder I felt drawn to her – I recognized my own anguish in her haunted eyes. I wanted nothing more, at that moment, than to take her pain away.

I remember my first couple of months attending the weekly GriefShare meetings... all I could do was cry. I was so shattered, but God in His great mercy used people in the group to speak to my wounded soul. Each group member was grieving the loss of a loved one, but so many were able to respond to the rawness of my broken world and administer tender care. It was a persuasive lesson on the healing power of genuine compassion.

Compassion is awareness of others’ distress coupled with a strong desire to alleviate it. It is a willingness to suffer together and a readiness to shoulder a greater share of the burden, asking nothing in return. Compassion responds to pain, sorrow, anguish and grief with kindness, empathy, generosity and acceptance. I believe it is the noblest quality of the human heart.

My son had a special heart for the hurting. From the time he was a young boy I was amazed at Jordan’s kindness and ability to connect on a deeper level. He was not afraid or unwilling to wade into the difficult territory of human suffering. I too have always had a tender heart, but the grief associated with my son’s death has greatly increased my capacity for relating to pain and suffering in others. I believe God uses others to comfort us and I believe He uses us to comfort others... maybe it is my turn.

I was momentarily distracted after our GriefShare meeting last week and when I was able to look for the woman who shares my deep sorrow, she had already left. I hope she will be there tomorrow night. I can almost hear my son urging me to reach out to her. I want to let her know that I understand, and that I am available to share her journey. Perhaps the greatest way to honor my son’s memory is to continue his legacy of kindness. Compassion is a powerful thing to both receive and to give. I know that not all pain can be fixed, but the anguish of grief is softened just a little in a landscape of compassion.